Unraveling
by Draconicality
Summary: Fate's path begins to alter its course, beginning with Jin Uzuki's finding of the URTVs on Old Militia. Sometimes, all it takes is one decision made...and one unusual man to make it. [XenoII, AU]
1. Weaving Threads

**Unraveling**

_one:_

Fire bursts forth, and ice flies to meet it—

_Time is a river that touches the shores of countless worlds, one that curves back and divides into a neverending labyrinth of intertwined pasts and futures. And along these threads, one can see events, people, creatures mundane or fantastical that glow with light, marking them as turning points, diverging paths; they are what will change the story they embody so drastically that they are divided into two or more entirely different ways._

—And all vanishes in a well of soundless white light that is elements burning each other out of existence.

Jin Uzuki shakes with the strain of standing against the blast. He wants nothing more than to let his legs fold under him, to drown the pain of his wounded side in unconsciousness.

At this point – the moment the dust clears and fates reach their crossroads – he does not allow himself that luxury and remains resolutely upright, though he sways involuntarily when Margulis' bloodied face appears through the hazy pall between them.

There is Canaan's hand steadying him at his left, and at his right chaos' light touch is reassuring. And this time, this time, he finds some hidden reserve of strength within him and _pulls. _His opponent does not expect him to have woven a spell of breaking after the effort it has taken for him to summon his beautiful bird of ice, and Jin can see it clearly in his face as he vanishes into the darkness of the ruin below.

It feels very little like victory.

"We should get you back on the ship." chaos' voice is a quiet suggestion by his ear, and very reasonable as things go, but something in it gives the swordsman pause. His mission, the three U.R.T.V. units he has been sent to retrieve, may yet be accomplished, and…he has taken worse wounds than before. Has he? It doesn't matter. He will keep going.

Despite Canaan's protests at his condition, and chaos' aura of obvious worry, they keep moving through rubble and fires and the madness of a dying world. Twice Jin stumbles on hidden obstacles, and both times is hauled up well before he can hit the ground.

_The choices have been made. In a separate world, three are lost and one vanishes back behind the curtain of history. In this one, eyes have focused on a new set of paths. The fabric of eternity is rippling into the divided tapestry of lives…for better, or for worse._

They are getting closer.

- - - - - - -

They are lost, they are lost with no hope; there is silence echoing terrible in his mind and it is all his fault, he, Rubedo, has been a coward for the first time in his short life and all that is dear to him has paid the price for it. He hugs Nigredo's doll-like _(corpse? has my br/other died in my arms?) _to his chest and wails quietly into dark strands of hair. _(i'm sorry) (i'm sorry) (nigredo/albedo/everybody i know you can't hear me) (but please, please, forgive me and do not _die.)

No one responds. They are alone and no less lost than before his plea, and if no one comes he is afraid Nigredo will leave him as well _(if he has not already—no!) _They must move, or rather, he must, hauling the other U.R.T.V. as far as his tired arms will allow and settling them in the lee of a wall that seems solid enough to shelter them. If anything can be called shelter on a planet that has gone to hell.

He whispers his brother's name and presses a hand to his neck, feeling what may be a shivering pulse, weak under his fingertips. There is still a chance. But how is he supposed to get either of them to safety when he stands and looks around to see nothing, nothing, nothing?

A different Rubedo will see no one, and save his brother and himself nonetheless. There are still ship-transports on the planet large and crowded enough that two boys, one awake and one not, can make their escape unnoticed.

This Rubedo is spared a little bit of heartache. For him there are voices that are not the military tones of soldiers or a victim's dying shrieks; these are low and thinned by distance, but not indecipherable to his ears, enhanced long before his 'birth' to make him an even better fighter.

"…could be dead for all we know…" This one is plaintive, but in a place like this that tone is easy to understand. No sane person would _want _to be here any longer than necessary.

"…shouldn't be…made to be resilient…units…" This one is a low, soothing alto, androgynous. For a moment Rubedo frowns as he attempts to puzzle it out. "Not immune…nothing's invincible…pack of child soldiers, and if the others have been destroyed – and there were supposed to be hundreds – why would those three be the only ones to survive?"

The redhead's eyes widen as his numbed mind finally makes sense of the approaching conversation. For a moment he debates finding a better hiding place. He wants Nigredo cured, but—

_(so little time to choose) (better dead than used again?) (better used than dead?) (little br/other, i wish you would wake you are the one who always knows what to do) (what would you do?)_

No answer, and so quickly he is learning not to expect one. Instead, he searches for the memory of a mind that should be as close as his own, and what his dark counterpart might have given him had he been aware of their predicament.

_(go) (better any chance of rescue) (prisoners may still escape) (i trust you rubedo)_

It is hollow, but it is the truth and by this time it almost does not matter because even through fire-glare he can see the three coming near, near, near, looming silhouettes and heavy footsteps on the broken ground.

He finds his voice and cries out, animal and wordless, and the figures lurch to a halt (are they carrying the one in the middle, is he hurt? Wait, he sees long hair…man or woman?), turning in the direction of his shout.

Ducking back behind the wall, he waits, shielding Nigredo with his body as best as he can in case these strangers have not, as he hopes, come to save them.

As it turns out, he doesn't have to worry. There is movement to his left (his gun is ready in wary, battle-trained fingers) and then – oh, it _is _a man now, obviously, despite the ridiculous length of the hair. He is almost concerned when the stranger gasps and clutches at a sticky red gash along his side, blood welling beneath gloved fingers.

"Hello," this odd man smiles, and even though his words are edged with pain, the expression is a welcome one. "You wouldn't happen to be Rubedo, would you?"

- - - - - - -

_Authoress-ramble: OMG Shanna, heeheehee, I can't believe your insanely AUlicious plotline would leech into my brain so far—you've gotten me HOOKED, HOOKED, you hear?! I couldn't stop writing this if I tried, and I don't care if I know zip about the game's plot…please, readers, if there are any huge glaring storyline errors with it, tell me, because I haven't played Xenosaga yet, and unless I get a job, I'm never going to be able to afford it. _

_So yeah, you could call this an offshoot of Shanna (Tala1)'s fic, 'Passion of Freedom,' because while I don't have her incredible talent for cooking up long and complicated plots full of Gnosis and monsters and angst (though I honestly wish to get it someday), I _did _want to write my own version of Xenosaga with Jin as a central character. 'Passion' and 'Unraveling' are two completely different stories, with completely different plotlines, never fear…_

_Next: Rubedo angsts, Nigredo is heard from in a totally unexpected way, and we begin to wander into completely AU territory…_


	2. Mysteries

**Unraveling**

_two:_

They are safe. He almost cannot believe their great good luck, but they are in one piece, alive and secure in a ship under the control of Vector Industries. Perhaps not the complete freedom he and his two brothers had wished for, but they are far from Militia with its horrors and that is what counts.

There is only one bleak spot in his relief. Nigredo will not waken.

Doctors and mechanics (though he believes adamantly that they should not be looked on as machines) scratch their heads in puzzlement over the dark-haired unit until Rubedo's glare convinces them that they should leave. He himself sleeps in the adjoining bed, unwilling to stir from the room as long as his brother lies under sheets of white surrounded by blipping equipment, still and silent.

Aloneness echoes continuously in his head – he knows Albedo is alive, and nothing more, for he is happy to keep it that way. The other U.R.T.Vs, the cicada cry underneath the minds that were his brothers of black and white, have long since faded into wintry death. And the scientists that made them, the only ones who might know how to bring their precious 669 back to the world of the living, are dead and dust on a world that is immeasurably far away.

_(far away) (far away) (nigredo you are so very distant from me now)_

He eats because his brother would want him to, but only enough to sustain himself; sleeps only when he can no longer stand the sight of that darkly childish face slack in something deeper than mere dreams. Other than that, he has not seen anything of the ship beyond the corridors to its medical chambers, and he has no wish to.

Oh, he is grateful, of course. But he is also broken inside, to the point where the death of the only one left who truly knows him will shatter him completely, mind body and soul.

And so, because he can do nothing else, he waits.

- - - - -

"He hasn't been out of there in five days, and the other one's as good as dead, if you ask me." The captain's voice is rough and uncompromising, that of a man with no patience for what he perceives as nothing more than overimportantly treated children on his ship. Not feeling like a confrontation, Jin nods politely and brushes by, wishing the man a good evening as he turns the corner.

He wonders why he waits until he's just outside their door to hesitate. It's not as if he has anything to fear from either of the URTVs he has successfully retrieved. Recovering and kept from leaving his bed unless absolutely necessary by ever-vigilant members of the crew who either had nothing else to do, or (as he suspects) had been bribed by his chance companions before they had left in their own vessel, he hasn't had a chance to speak much to Rubedo.

Besides, collapsing from blood loss in front of the very people he'd been sent to save was hardly a good first impression. Canaan's metaphorical 'tsk-tsk'ing hadn't helped much either. He hopes to remedy that with a second visit, one that doesn't consist of nine words and falling over flat.

He knocks lightly, and when there is a muffled "yeah, come in" from within, he enters.

The scene is exactly as he feared it would be: U.R.T.V. 669 Nigredo in the same state as he has been since the fall of Militia; minor cuts and bruises healed but about as responsive as a brick. Unit 666, Rubedo, the fallen leader, has a haunted cast to his features that Jin does not like. He sits by his brother's bed in a chair that someone has thoughtfully provided, massaging one limp hand between his fingers, dark circles under his eyes making it apparent that he has not rested awhile from this vigil.

He folds his hands comfortably within silken sleeves (eccentric he may be deemed for preferring an old-style robe over his captain's uniform, but it is _far _more comfortable), and waits to be acknowledged. It doesn't take long.

"You look…odd." He blinks and looks up from the floor panels to meet curious blue eyes. Rubedo reads his gaze and seems to find his manners with only a tiny shake of his head to betray discomfiture. "Sorry. I meant, are you feeling better? You didn't look so hot last time."

"Ah—well, it's prevented me from paying a visit, but I can assure you I'm quite all right." he says, while moving from his place near the doorway to stand to the opposite side of the bed. "No change?"

"None." The redhead's voice is pure misery, and Jin resists the urge to reach out and give him a hug, unsure of how such an action will be received. "D'you…d'you think he'll be okay?"

The swordsman cannot answer 'yes,' for it might mean giving false hope (he knows plenty about the working systems of an AGWS, but nothing whatsoever about the genetic genius that created 669 and the others like him.) Nor can he say 'no,' which would simply crush this boy even further. "I don't understand what the problem is, I'm afraid." Up close Nigredo looks less healthy than he should; there is a faint translucence to his pale-skinned face, enough so that Jin can make out the intricacy of tiny blue veins beneath, can almost imagine the contours of a corpse's skull…ah, stop these morbid thoughts! They are not helping anyone! "As I see it, there is nothing wrong with him _physically, _but…"

What secrets are being kept here, what missing links? Jin, without knowing why, touches gentle fingers to the part of the boy's forehead hidden under dark bangs. Behind him, there is a sudden, stifled gasp and a thud. Jin turns instantly, hand still touching flesh; Rubedo has fallen from his seat to the ground and is clutching desperately at his head. There is a pregnant pause, where one curls in on himself in seeming agony and one stares in blank incomprehension, and then a harsh, ragged scream.

The redhead jerks spasmodically for a moment after the outcry, then give voice to another appalling shriek. Finally jerking his body into action, Jin darts forward and kneels beside him, heart aching at the sight of someone in such obvious pain.

(He realizes later that there is a sound…no, not a sound, more of a _feeling _through the air of the room when he breaks contact with Nigredo's skin, a sort of 'twang' as though something has been pulled past its breaking point and snapped.)

Small hands claw at him, fisting themselves in the front of his kimono. Heeding the unspoken request, Jin pulls the boy up to lean against him. A glimpse of that pale face before it buries itself in his chest shocks him – there is blood mingling with the tears that flow from cobalt eyes, and Rubedo looks vulnerable—terribly so, for one who has held himself together this long.

Whatever it is that caused such violent actions, apparently the worst has subsided, for Rubedo no longer seems to be in pain. But he is shivering violently in Jin's arms, as though caught by some deathly chill, and with yet another sudden start the swordsman realizes that between hitching sobs, the URTV is speaking, soft and urgent.

"…it should be…broken, broken, I felt it, it hurt us all so much…they died because they couldn't hear me anymore…all except Nigredo, little brother…b-but why? Why did I hear him? So loud, so scared…like when they activated him, the first time…too strong, little brother, you already knew drawing us in was killing us, you have poison…ohhh, it hurts…" And Rubedo raises himself to look Jin in the eyes, and Jin is drawn and held paralyzed by the chilling fear in them. "And you, you feel like a normal guy, but you touched him and I could _hear _him…lost, and he couldn't reach out until now…what did you do?" He shakes his head furiously, fiery hair dipping into the damp trails down his cheeks, the tips suddenly dyed a deeper crimson. "What _are _you?"

Jin, lost, finds his throat locked by confusion and can only shake his head, unable to answer…not knowing if there even is one.

Were his efforts for naught, and has the only functional URTV that remains to them gone mad? Or is this something else entirely?

- - - - -

Many hours later, after Rubedo has fallen into a fitful rest, Jin places a call directly to the office of none other than Wilhelm, Vector CEO and the man who is responsible for sending him to Militia in the first place.

Despite all the running bets that the youthful-looking blonde is psychic, he seems surprised enough as he comes up on screen, though, as usual, his hair is perfectly smooth and his clothes show not even the slightest wrinkle. Briefly, Jin entertains the notion that all of it is glued in place.

Even facing something unexpected, the man exudes an aura of bland calm, only the slight lift of a pale eyebrow suggesting that this is anything other than what he expected. "Good afternoon, Captain Uzuki. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you so soon?"

Again, Jin wonders if _anything _will ruffle those perfect feathers, before launching into a detailed telling of what just transpired so recently in the mediwing. He glosses over what caused Rubedo's fit, for the child-warrior's words have unnerved him more than he thought possible. What, indeed does it make him, that he can act as a conduit for a comatose being's thoughts? And without even realizing it? He is a fairly competent swordsman, and a mech pilot, not a Realian or anything else that might have this strange revealed ability of his. He is _human_, without any reason to doubt it!

_So, _says something small and wicked at the back of his mind, _why can't you just drop the subject?_

Wilhelm is silent for a long time, face drawn into a slightly more serious – yet equally unreadable – mask. "This is worrisome," he murmurs at last. "I will admit to being unaware that their engineering had that kind of result…they are meant for intelligence and physical ability, but not _telepathy. _Then again, such extreme mental power would answer quite a few questions…"

Jin would love to know just what these questions are (Shion has always said he is a bit too nosy for his own good), but knowing he is unlikely to receive an explanation, he holds his tongue.

"Anyway." Wilhelm leans back from the viewscreen, allowing a glimpse of the office around him. "Unit 669 is incapacitated, and 666 refuses to leave him. Yes?" Jin can only nod, and there is the faintest flicker of emotion on the CEO's ageless-seeming face. Triumph? Sympathy?

"Your arrival here is expected in no more than six hours, Captain Uzuki. The company researchers will be there to take charge and rectify any problems, so I wouldn't worry too much. A job well done, by the way." The blonde inclines his head in dismissal, just as Jin finds his voice again.

"Sir. Might I make a request?"

Something in the other man's tone tells him that Wilhelm is unused to subordinates adding their own terms. "Mm." Amazing how it conveys the message of _Yes, I'll hear you out, but nobody said anything about my granting whatever you're going to ask, so don't get your hopes up._

He says it anyway, marveling at his own daring. "I would…appreciate it, if they could stay with me for awhile." When he receives a sharp look from red eyes, he gulps and tries to clarify. "I don't think they'll be good for much until they're both up and healthy, and you can see that his brother's still suffering from whatever happened to them on Militia, sir. I was scheduled to take leave after this mission, and it's no trouble to house two young boys—"

Wilhelm cuts in smoothly. "Captain Uzuki, surely you must know by now that the URTVs are not something to be handled lightly! And my staff is impatient to get them under observation right away."

"Sir, please. This is all I ask, and not on a permanent basis! Just until they've recovered – I honestly think as they are now, they'll be all but useless to you _or _Vector."

Wilhelm looks at him, calm as ever. "You've really grown attached to them, haven't you?" When there is no reply, he nods decisively. "I will consider your proposition, Captain Uzuki. And even if I can arrange for them to be released into your care, there _will _be conditions. Good day."

The screen blinks into darkness. Jin stares at it for a minute more, feeling numb. Suddenly, he really, _really _needs a good stiff drink…

- - - - -

_Authoress-ramble: Oh, the joys of twisting the story around and tying sailor's knots in it XD So the random AUness begins! Thankies to Shanna and White Phoenix for the words of encouragement, you guys made me write up a chapter that is twice as long as it would normally be X3 Huge credit is also to be given to Mooncalf's fic The First Book Of The URTV, and The Tesseract Seraph's Lost Letters, both of __which ended up becoming the basis for Rubedo, Albedo and Nigredo's characterizations, as well as a sort of timeline. _

_Next: Jin gets his drink and a talk, Nigredo begins his 'awakening,' (sort of) and everyone settles into a bit of R&R time—but what's this? Could it be…Shion? Oh dear…_


	3. Exercises in Futility

**Unraveling**

_three:_

_Drifting. Drifting. He tries constantly to stay just where he is, stretching out shadow-arms into the not-sea of visions and fragments of unformed thought…_

_Nigredo's power is with his mind and with his words; he is a master storyteller when he chooses. And this, so far, has proven to be the cause of his undoing. For all the worlds he has built so carefully in the depths of his mind draw him, even as gravity draws all creatures to the earth, but he no longer wants to enter any of his former havens._

_For when he enters any; when at last his struggles to stay afloat are not enough and he is drawn close and ­in, he always finds the same thing – flame, death and ruins of what was once as real to him as anything in the far reaches of the galaxy. An appropriate reflection of what has surely gripped him: he will never forget Militia (for the scientists unwittingly made it so he will forget nothing at all), and he knows the madness of it all is what keeps him trapped here, for it has permeated his being._

_Almost worse than this total inside-and-out ruin of himself is the absolute, all-encompassing silence; and this is what he would rather die than live with forever. Since he has lost himself in this place-not-a-place he has been grimly aware of it, and to keep its insidious fingers from coming too near he constantly reaches out with all the mental force that is his gift, calling, calling, calling – so he can hear something, anything, and also for the chance that one of his brothers is still out there, somewhere…and finally, hoping to summon something new into his mind that is free of the taint of pain, fury, or betrayal._

_Something like the lightning._

_He hadn't understood it when it had happened (and when was that? Here there is no sense of night and day, minutes and hours; counted time to him is lost), so quickly it was gone almost before he'd realized its presence in the midst of his searching mental screams. A column of pure rainbow-white fire, dancing before him, close enough to touch yet as faraway as the stars, and he'd—heard? No, felt? No, drawn—the sense of wider something that it had offered in all its purity to him, but only for the barest flicker of his thoughts. Then it had been simply gone, and his outcries for some time had been tinged with utter frustration._

_He has to believe that it was something alien and real. He has to believe that it will come for him again; because it is the only one that has, so far._

_Besides, it was incredibly beautiful, compared to the darkness that now consumes him. For that alone, he will do anything he can to see it again, whether it may serve him as a bridge back to life or not._

_He calls, and calls, and calls, and with infinite patience waits for it to answer._

- - - - - - -

As they draw within sight of the giant, imposing battleship-colony known as Dammerung - which, incidentally, houses the entirety of the Industries - Jin watches Rubedo's awestruck face reflected in the glass of the window framed on both sides by the narrow stretch of the bar. He allows himself a tiny smile, the expression hidden by the foaming rim of his mug.

He doesn't usually drink, (and when he does he keeps it light, owing to an incident two years back that still makes him blush beet-red when it is brought up) but after all that has transpired in the past few hours, and the feat that is distracting Rubedo enough to stop him worrying over his brother, who has been separated from him to be 'prepared for moving,' he feels entitled to nurse at least one beer. Most people need some sort of preparation to meet the head of the vast Industries face-to-face; this is his way of coping, too.

The _Ephraim_ will be docking in one hour, thirty-five minutes. Taking a sip, he grimaces (no one ever said he liked the taste of alcohol much, either) and wished that it was still a hundred days away, or maybe a single second, so he can get the waiting and worrying over and done with.

- - - - - - -

"NIISAN! _NIISAN!_"

_"Oof!"_

Barely a moment after they have disembarked, Jin is knocked flat by a tiny whirlwind of flying orange hair and bright blue dress. Rubedo laughs in surprised hilarity at the look on the swordsman's face when he lifts his head to find that his attacker is in fact a little girl, wearing huge round-lensed glasses and a gigantic gap-toothed smile.

"Okaerinasai, niisan!"

"Aa...t-tadaima, Shion-chan." He sounds more than a little winded, and can hear Rubedo stifling snickers somewhere behind him. "I guess I might as well introduce you to this young man, since he'll probably be staying with us for awhile…" Sitting up, he puts a hand to his side; even with nanomachines working overtime, the half-healed wound aches gently underneath his ribs. "And really, you're getting a bit big to do that, aren't you? Where's Reki?"

The child's face falls. "He was here until you landed, then he took off again…"

"_Whoa, whoa!" _The siblings turn to behold the redhead wrestling with a shaggy gray dog almost as large as he is, having seized the animal around the middle and tugged it away from the transport-bed that is being carefully maneuvered down the _Ephraim's_ exit ramp with a small familiar form tucked firmly upon it. Jin sighs – even with only his little sister, her guardian, and a few other bystanders who must be waiting for certain of the crew to greet them, must everything dissolve so into disorganization?

"Well, we've found him, I guess…call him off, will you, imouto?"

"Reki! Reki, come here! Stop that!"

The animal barks once – slightly tinny, his vocal wiring must be suffering a bug – and relents, leaving the panting redhead to stare. Jin clears his throat and beckons him over. He obeys, one hand on a bedrail to ensure that his brother is still more or less by his side.

Shion is kneeling with both arms around the dog's neck, scolding him softly in Japanese; she looks up when the blue of the redhead's uniform comes into her field of vision. "Sumimasen yo…I promise he won't do that again!" When he just looks blank, the elder Uzuki steps in smoothly to explain things to URTV, wide-eyed little girl, and even the errant canine (introduced as _Animalia _model RK-1F256, shortened to Reki, a slightly malfunctioning quadrumech programmed to be both guardian and intelligent, affectionate pet.)

They relax after that, and only then does Jin wonder just what Shion is _doing _upon the Dammerung, until he remembers that Vector had ships upon Militia that would have taken his family to safety. Their parents, though…the long-haired man glances around, sighs yet again, and decides to worry about it later, because Wilhelm is coming down the stairs leading to the dock, flanked by guards.

- - - - - - -

Amazingly, the CEO has decided to agree to his terms, and tells him so in his usual pleasantly direct way, waving off Jin's thanks with a blunt reminder that for that, as with everything else, there is a price to be paid. He disappears quietly the minute the swordsman's head is turned. Everyone in Vector has gotten used to it.

Jin is left wondering how on earth he will fit all these people into his modest apartments.

Nigredo fits quite easily into the smaller room, but the mass of monitoring equipment that comes with him nearly overwhelms what little furniture is already there, and Reki nearly wrecks half of them before his mistress and Rubedo drag him away.

"Will you be staying here too, imouto?" he asks.

She shakes her head solemnly. "Come visit 'Kaasan and 'Tousan and me!" is her answer. "You can, right? You have time, right? Bring Rubedo-san too! And Nigredo-san when he wakes up, okay?"

The canine mech breaks the awkward silence after her questions with a series of beeps completely unlike his usual tinny barks and howls, and she jumps up, waves goodbye, and is gone as quickly as she came.

"It must be pretty cool, having a little sister!" Rubedo's grin is wistful, but the haunted look is still in his eyes; he has stayed in the one free corner by his brother's bedside for the whole time. The swordsman waves it off and bustles about, rearranging everything more to his liking. Never has he been gladder for the existence of a pull-out in his sofa, though he always used to think that whoever mass-furnishes the living quarters on the Dammerung has a lousy sense of humor for including the creaky things.

Nitpicking complete, he approaches the bed again, scratching his head over all the monitors. Brain activity and heart rate he can understand, but some of the gear has him completely baffled. For the sake of all that is good, how lacking in a life was the inventor of a—a—toe-twitch counter! That's what one seems to be…he is willing to bet money that his little sister knows what it actuallydoes and how it does it. She has always been clever that way.

All of Rubedo's unexpected protestations at taking up so much of his space are ignored or parried with Jin's favorite enigmatic smile and obscure philosophical phrases, until at last, the redhead gives up and crawls into his new 'bed.' It has been arranged to be no farther than a door away…just in case.

- - - - - - -

_Nigredo grows increasingly frustrated. He still does not know if the time that has passed is fleeting or if his body has grown and died while his mind is absent. The worlds are collapsing, collapsed, and he can feel his sanity as a thin, stretching crimson thread._

_But the lightning is almost back, so close he can taste it underneath the ash that seems caked on his tongue. It flickers tantalizingly in the corner of his eye when he turns to survey another stretch ofdim and repetitive destruction, when he looks down at himself and sees nothing. He is a ghost and the lightning is his guide, but how will he use it when it will not come back within his reach?_

_Rubedo (br/other) come back. Hear me again bridge the gap come back. I need the lightning Rubedo-lightning return I need you soon soon soon before everything has crumbled and is lost dead dust (Albedo oh the song the song he struck me down) I'm spiraling help me show me the way I'm sorry I'm not as strong as you what makes me strong is what's killing me hear me (hear me) hear me (hear me) (help) (me) (wake.)_

_The cry is all he has now, the cry and the sparks of his pathway covered and blocked by his shadows._

- - - - - - -

_Authoress-ramble: …well…bah. I wrote most of this before playing Xenosaga and XenoII, so now I can see where I've…eheh…made it a little more AU than it's intended to be. Got sidetracked a LOT but was jarred back into finishing, mostly because I got hold of The Dark Tower books and had this nagging little recollection of a certain work of The Tesseract Seraph's. Salutes to thee. And I was getting so many kind words on my little drabbles that it seemed unfair to leave the big work aside, so. Here you go. More filler…I'm just letting it write itself and seeing what happens._

_Next: Helmer comes into the picture for the first time, Shion for the second. Wilhelm is subtle as always, and Jin and Rubedo wonder just what the heck is going on with Nigredo, while Nigredo wonders the same of the outside world…_


End file.
